


Beauty's Tricks

by GatewayGirl



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Dubious Consent, F/M, Restraints
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-03-21
Updated: 2005-03-21
Packaged: 2017-12-04 15:00:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/712039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GatewayGirl/pseuds/GatewayGirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bellatrix wants her cousin's Dark Creature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beauty's Tricks

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings:** Dubious consent with non-consensual restraints. Angsty.
> 
> **Canon Compliancy:** All, if Sirius wasn't entirely honest.
> 
> **Notes:** Written for turnedskyward for the 2005 Springsmut Rairpairs exchange. I spent an awfully long time staring at the assignment thinking, _I can't write that._ Fortunately, I seem to have been wrong. Thanks to Marks for the quick beta, and Atropos Lee for the quick Britpick.

When the door chime of Sirius's flat sounded, Remus hurried to answer it. It wasn't that he was expecting a visitor or a delivery; it was that he still felt guilty about his status as non-paying guest. The theory was that he was added protection for James's Secret Keeper, but he knew quite well he was a charity case, and had been so for the last month. He assuaged his conscience by being useful whenever possible.

When he opened the door and saw who had rung, he was struck dumb with shock. Bellatrix Black. Remus hadn't seen her since she left school, when he was twelve, but she wasn't the sort of person you forgot. She was stunningly beautiful -- not conventionally, in any current fashion, but on her own terms. Her physique was almost masculine -- statuesque and strong -- but with full breasts and hypnotic, heavy-lidded eyes, saved from somnolence by thick, dark lashes. She had hair to rival Sirius -- a magnificent black mane of loose curls that fell about her face and the neckline of her low robes, emphasizing the flawless aristocratic pallor of her skin.

She was Sirius's first cousin; even if Remus hadn't known that, he would have guessed some kinship. Rumor had it that she had more than mere political allegiance to Voldemort. Between the two, Remus was unsure whether he should invite her in or hex her.

A door slammed open in the flat behind him. "Who is it, Moony?"

Remus felt better at that. Sirius was an excellent fighter; certainly she wouldn't try to take on both of them. Unless, he amended, she had allies in the stairwell. "Your cousin," he called back, his eyes not leaving the woman. He stepped back inside. "Please come in, Miss, er, Mrs. ...."

"Lestrange." She stepped into the dingy flat as if she were a visiting queen. She might well think of herself as such, Remus reflected. According to Sirius, this cousin was even more of a pureblood chauvinist than the blonde one who had married Malfoy. She would certainly find this merely comfortable flat a hovel and the somewhat mixed-blood nothing who answered the door beneath her notice.

Sirius poked his head out of the sitting room. "Bella!" he exclaimed. For an instant, he was all delight and enthusiasm. Remus found it almost painful to watch that drain away, leaving his face wary and resentful.

"I ... This is unexpected."

"I thought it was time to see how my errant cousin was surviving in exile."

Bellatrix had a lovely voice, low and entrancing, and her charming smile nagged at Remus's memory. It made him want to let his guard down, and that, in itself, alarmed him. He watched Sirius smile and raise an eyebrow to her in return, and his nervousness turned to fear. When Bellatrix took Sirius's arm and walked with him into the sitting room, like a society lady being escorted into a ball, Remus could not help but follow. He needed to protect Sirius. His cousin Bellatrix might well intend him harm, and though Sirius affected rebellion, his society conditioning still ran deep. He might drive off a kinswoman with rudeness, but he could never turn one away.

Remus followed, watching closely and keeping his hand near his wand. He'd heard enough stories from Sirius -- before his friend grew older and aware enough to stop telling them -- to know that the Blacks were a family proud of their fierceness, and while Black women usually worked behind the scenes, not all of them left killing to their men. If Voldemort's forces had deduced that Sirius Black was the Potters' Secret Keeper, Bellatrix might be here to capture her cousin. Remus knew he had one advantage -- they could not kill the Secret Keeper, or his secret was safe until the Potters themselves broke it. Remus, on the other hand, could kill Bellatrix, if need be. He hadn't killed yet, and was in no hurry to start, but he knew it was only a matter of time. Better that than to have the blood of friends on his hands -- metaphorically speaking.

For a while the talk was light, skirting around all delicate issues. They discussed Quidditch, the weather, fashion, and third and fourth cousins in Belgium. Remus grew less afraid and more unsettled. He could smell the moist heat pooling between Bellatrix's thighs as she spoke to her cousin -- glancing occasionally back to him. Remus suspected she wanted him to leave them alone. He did not.

When Sirius went to make tea, Bellatrix stood. Remus thought she would follow him, but instead, she stretched languidly, looked sideways at Remus, and strolled over to sit at the other end of the sofa.

"Not following Sirius?" he asked stupidly.

"To a kitchen, like a common housewife?" Her glittering eyes half-closed, softening as her lush lashes shadowed them. "Besides, I find this company ... more intriguing."

Bellatrix Black Lestrange was _not_ coming on to him, Remus told himself frantically. Her scent said otherwise. Still, she did not move within touching range, did not lay her strong hand on his arm, as she had, now and then, on Sirius's. After a moment, he began to breathe again.

"Er, thank you. I suppose."

She stood up, and he relaxed, but only for a moment. Slowly, she prowled around to the back of his seat. From behind him, she leaned close. He could feel her breath ghosting along his ear, and his own breath quickened. Her voice followed, low and lush.

"I know what you are."

Remus jerked forward, almost knocking a book off the arm of the sofa. Instantly, he was chiding himself for a fool. It wasn't as if Sirius didn't know already, and he was properly registered and had no employer to tell. The damage she could do with that information was minimal. He forced himself to settle back, and to unclench his hands.

She leaned even closer, her lips almost touching his skin. "I understand Sirius. He likes to display his courage. That is far deeper than his affected aversion to things Dark. But you --" She broke off at a clatter from the kitchen. By the time Sirius returned, she was back in her chair. Remus sat, stunned, as they chatted over tea. Once, she smiled slyly back at him, and he suddenly recognized what made that disarming. It was Sirius's smile.

 

After Bellatrix took her leave, Remus trailed Sirius into the kitchen. 

"I don't think we should let her come back here. I'd like to extend the protections of the house against her."

Sirius frowned. "That would be difficult for such a close kinswoman. And rude -- even for me."

"She's not safe. We know she supports Voldemort." 

"Politically, yes." Sirius cleared his throat. "But, she and I ... well, we used to be close. When I was little, I mean. Followed her around quite a bit, and she took care of me. I think she'd have a hard time seeing me hurt."

"Sirius! Frank suspects she's a Death Eater."

Sirius snorted rudely. "Rot. Voldemort's as backward as they come. He doesn't mark women. I've no doubt we need to watch our mouths around her -- anything she hears will go straight to Rodolphus, and then to Him, but she won't take me herself. It would be denying her husband his proper glory."

This wasn't Remus's impression of Bellatrix at all, but he didn't know how to explain that. He had the sinking feeling Sirius might _still_ be fond of his cousin. Perhaps he was missing his family more now that James was in hiding.

"Besides, it can't help but be good for her." Sirius nudged him with a shoulder. "If she can accept a blood traitor like me, and someone like you, who's not even of an old family, that might make her see it in a new light." He laughed again. "And she fancies you, you know. I saw how she was looking."

Remus didn't want to argue. "And you," he returned instead, taking refuge in teasing. "You know what they say about the pureblood fascination with incest."

Sirius snorted. "If we didn't marry cousins, we wouldn't be purebloods, would we? And her husband's no match for her looks -- can't blame the girl if she wants something better."

Remus let Sirius chatter on with rude speculations about the abilities, interests, and attention span of Bellatrix's husband, and privately resolved to stay on his guard.

 

Bellatrix visited twice more that month, and did nothing that Remus could use to persuade Sirius to keep her away. In the rare moments they were left alone, however, she would come close, someplace out of immediate reach, and speak to him as a werewolf. Remus was not unfamiliar with people who spoke to him as a Dark Creature, rather than a man, but it had always been in fear. Bellatrix was wary, but not afraid. There was always a thrum of excitement in her low voice, and the heavy musk of arousal to her scent. He struggled with humiliation and desire, and never found his voice in the scant minutes before Sirius returned to make sure they had not murdered each other.

On her third visit, in late October, everything changed. Several members of the Order of the Phoenix had gone missing the day before, a mixed family in Hogsmeade had been killed by Death Eaters that night, and Hagrid had found Benjy Fenwick's head at the gates to the Hogwarts' grounds in the morning. When they heard the list of the missing, Sirius had sworn a blue streak at the names of the husband and sister-in-law of one of his ex-girlfriends -- of whom he was still fond -- and he had left to care for her as best he could. Remus had been called to help with the search -- his senses, even in human form, were unusually sharp -- but when he went near the gates, where the head was found, he was overwhelmed by the smell of blood, so strong and harsh that it made his head spin. He had finally returned, after roaming the hills around Hogsmeade long past dark, and had collapsed in the kitchen, too emotionally wrung to get food, or drink, or even to go to bed. Sirius, slumped over the table with a glass of firewhisky, looked in no shape to do more.

Then Bellatrix arrived. 

She was perfect. Energy radiated her like heat from a fire. She was beautiful, and alive, and charged with delight. Sirius stared at her as if she was a stranger.

"Sorry, Bella," he said, shaking his head. "Not up to visitors." 

"Nonsense." She strode past him and into the sitting room, where she set down the bottle of wine she was holding. "A house gift -- I realized I have been remiss."

"Bella, really." Sirius took a deep breath. "A friend of ours was killed, yesterday. And we knew the people who died in Hogsmeade -- the oldest daughter, anyway."

Her lip curled in contempt. "Why do you do this? Sit crying about animals? You're --"

Sirius careened forward. "You heartless bitch!

Remus yanked him back. Neither of them was in any condition to fight Bellatrix when she had a wand, but he had the strength to keep Sirius from starting it.

"See? Even your beast knows better." 

Remus shook. He forced words out carefully. "I don't want to fight. Please leave."

Her half-closed eyes lifted, glittering in the candlelight. She stepped forward, ignoring Sirius, and stroked a finger along his jaw. It was the first time she had ever touched him while standing in front of him, and Remus realized, abstractly, that he could snap her neck if he chose.

"Fools, both of you." She drew herself haughtily straight. "He --" She glanced at Sirius. "-- does it for the thrill. But you ... why? Why support the people who vilify you? My lord would reward you well for your services."

Remus stayed very still. "Purebloods vilify me as often and as viciously."

"What does that matter, if we give you power?" 

Sirius stood abruptly, knocking his chair to the ground. "Get out."

"Really, cousin!" She smiled tauntingly. Her lips had just parted for another word when she suddenly twitched back. Her right hand went to her left forearm even as her head went back and her eyes near closed. Remus had walked in on Sirius being whipped by one of his lovers, once. His face had borne the same strange mix of pain and devotion and ecstasy.

"Bella!" 

She Apparated out. 

 

After Bellatrix left, Sirius took the bottle of wine she had brought, and used the traces her hand had left on the neck to extend the protections of the house against her.

"Don't let her in again," he said, as they drank the blood-dark gift. "Don't ever let her in again." He pressed his hands to his temples as his eyes closed. "This never happened."

Remus didn't say, "I told you so." 

 

Remus walked, rather than Apparating, back from the sentencing. The Ministry had finally, weeks after the murders that took everyone he cared for, let him see Sirius. He had fought for it, wanted it, needed to know why ... and then, when he was there, he could not speak. The Dementor guards, lurking close, stole his will, and Sirius, who had been with them since his capture, looked half-mad already. His thick hair was matted and starting to dull, and his eyes were red and shadowed with bruising from lack of sleep.

Remus had not spoken, but Sirius had. He had reached out, his face twisting when Remus stepped back.

"I want to wake up." The hoarse croak was nothing like Sirius' rich voice. "Please, Moony? Wake me up?"

Remus had turned and ran, the door guard guffawing behind him, and set out into the dirty London rain. His pace became slower the closer he got to home. He was alone, now, three times bereaved -- four, if you counted Sirius.

At the door, he fumbled over manipulating the protections on their -- his -- flat. Rather than trying again, he destroyed them. _What does it matter? The only one left to kill here is me. I'd rather be dead, anyway._

Remus wasn't the sort for suicide -- it seemed the most selfish sort of indulgence to leave others with your messes -- but the thought of being murdered in his bed by Death Eaters had a certain appeal. He left the door unlocked. In passing, he opened the Floo.

He went into Sirius's bedroom. He hadn't meant to. He didn't know why he was there again, standing and staring at all the things he had no idea what to do with. The night it happened, when everyone else was out celebrating, he had ransacked the room, digging through clothes and trash and old correspondence, trying to find a clue, a hint, anything -- anything that might have warned him that Padfoot had left them. He had smoked Sirius' cigarettes, because he _didn't,_ and they _hurt,_ and they tasted vile, and they gave him an excuse to feel ill. The debris -- leather and denim and silk, and steel and glass and paper, and the odd charmed widget, and the stuffed lion Sirius had bought "for Harry" _(God! Sirius, how could you?)_ and never given to him -- still lay scattered on the floor and the bed. By one leg of the chair, ashes and ends sprawled from under the broken ashtray Remus had swept from the desk when he had screamed at the dawn. 

_Now what? Should I send this all back to his mother? She didn't even attend his sentencing. Should I put it out with the trash?_ Remus shuddered at the thought of stuffing it into bags. _Move away and leave it?_ Remus closed his eyes. That would probably be best. He didn't officially live here anyway. Soon -- when the Ministry caught up with Sirius's assets -- he would need to leave. Leaving on his own terms would be better.

He backed out and closed the door firmly. The latch clicked home, and he promised himself he would not open it again. He could feel his bed summoning him to lie down. Was this some part of the wolf, he wondered, or did the uncursed also feel this call to curl up in misery in their own tiny lair? He entered his dim bedroom -- the one whose windows looked out onto the alley -- and rolled onto the covers.

He had just a moment to register an incongruous scent before the bindings came. They snaked up from the bed, pliant and thick and stinging slightly -- and wrapped around his wrists and ankles. Instinctively, he arched against them. The resulting burn made him jerk back and freeze.

"Lie still -- the cores are silver. You don't want to stretch them."

Fire flared around him as the candles lit. Bellatrix was standing at the foot of the bed. She looked radiant, perfect, and deadly. Remus sagged back against the mattress. He put back his head for good measure.

"Good wolf."

Bellatrix stepped forward. Her eyes glittered with mad energy. Remus had the strange thought that she had gained the fire Sirius had lost. He was grateful he got to be killed by something so beautiful.

"Go ahead," he invited gently. 

He was expecting a flash of light from her wand, but he was not surprised, considering the visceral nature of her tastes, to see, instead, the glint of it off a blade. He stretched back further, willingly presenting his throat.

She didn't take it. Instead, that cold steel slipped alongside his shoulder and pulled out into the sleeve of his formal robes, ripping it to the elbow. Another cut and it was slit to the wrist. His shirt followed, then the motions were repeated on the other side.

"What are you doing?"

"Undressing you." Bellatrix smiled -- _his_ smile. "You didn't think I'd unbind you, did you?"

"I expected bloodletting." 

She laughed. "Now? Why, we're just getting acquainted." 

She knelt close to slide the knife under his waistband. Involuntarily, he sucked in a breath. Her scent was close and musky -- was she always aroused? -- and he could feel himself hardening with anticipation. The cut was long and slow and it pulled the fabric of his trousers up into the crack of his arse and then tight against the backs of his legs. He whimpered as the pressure vanished, the trousers cut through. She folded the fabric back. Lazily, she ran the tip of one finger from the base of his cock to the slit.

"You enjoy this." Her voice was rich with lust, and Remus felt his throat tighten with loathing. She had taken Sirius -- it must have been her! Instantly, he constructed the story of vulnerable, lost Sirius, led astray by his dashing cousin.

"I don't."

She laughed. "Poor beast. So afraid of yourself!" She stood and moved in front of him. Slowly, she undid her robes, revealing inch after inch of snow-white skin.

_Some sort of corrupted virgin sacrifice,_ Remus thought in disgust, as she spread her arms before him. Instantly, he realized how apt the model was. Bellatrix did not want him in spite of his curse; she wanted him _for_ his curse. She wanted a beast. The more he fulfilled her expectations, the more she would assume his reactions were predictable. _I don't want to die after all._ The sudden clarity of the thought, after all the strange nightmare time before it, made him dizzy. The way she dropped her arms, letting the robe fall away from her, didn't help. _Perhaps I could kill her, though. Could I? Damn, she's beautiful._

When she was naked before him, and his cock was traitorously hard and leaking with eagerness, she returned to pull away the remnants of his clothing. He moaned at the stimulation of cloth sliding beneath him. When he was as bare as she was, she crawled onto the bed and straddled his hips.

He felt his eyes try to close. "Bella."

A strong hand gripped around his cock and lifted it up. "Yes. You want Bella, don't you, werewolf?"

In place of the loathing he was accustomed to, Bellatrix made the term quiver with lust. Remus was unable to find words. He moaned.

"Yes. That's it. Let go. You don't need to pretend with me. I know what you are."

She went up on her knees and held him still, circling her fragrant wetness over his tip. Remus tried to thrust up, but the bindings pulled him further out, keeping him stretched to the bed.

"Now, beast! Behave."

He growled. He would tell himself later that he saw an advantage, but it was as much sheer reaction to her lust. After a few clumsy moistenings of his suddenly thick mouth, he managed words. "That's not what you want."

"What do _you_ know of what I want?" She lowered herself onto him slightly with the taunt, and he bucked up as much as he could, getting his head briefly inside her warm folds before she lifted again.

"You want more. You want me behind you, not down here. You want me mounting you, pinning you, biting, holding...." He wondered if his human teeth could tear deep enough to kill. He could try, anyway.

Her thick lashes lifted. "And do you want that?"

"Oh yes." He let himself be what she anticipated now. "Want you. Need to be on you. Fuck the beauty hard." Remus let a bit of true lust emerge. "You smell so good, Bella. Want."

She laughed charmingly. He tried not to think of Sirius. For a moment, he was afraid his erection would flag with sorrow and hurt, but then she picked up her wand and pointed to her robes. "Accio collar."

Remus froze. The thing that flew from her robes ... it ... it was ... a _dog_ collar. Thick black leather, tooled in gold snakes, shone before his eyes as she lifted and twirled it.

"Now, my cousin's wolf, listen: this is charmed. While you wear it, you may not -- cannot -- bite. While you wear it, a word from me will pull you back."

Remus, almost against his will, nodded. His horror at what the collar did was exceeded only by his horror at his eagerness to have it on. With it on, he could pin her down and take her.

"When you wear it, you will remember your place." She pointed her wand again, and spoke: "Sine lingua!"

_What?_ Remus tried to ask, but it came out as a sort of yelp. She cast a Petrifaction Hex on him to place the collar, apparently unwilling to risk his human teeth, then removed it when it was in place. He tried to bite her, but his teeth would not close. In the interest of knowledge, he experimented and found he could close his lips on her fingers, but his teeth would not press against them. She bent one finger into his mouth and he sucked it deep, but even moving quickly did not allow him to harm her.

She moaned softly as she drew the finger out. When his mouth was free, he tried to curse her, but all that came out was a growl.

"Isn't that nice? No difficult words to get in your way." She laughed. "Now -- come get what you want." She lowered herself to slide along his hard length, and he whined with unwelcome eagerness. With a flick of her wand, his bonds vanished. For an instant, he lay still, then, in a quick motion, flipped them both over. She wriggled free, and he grabbed for her, then stopped himself.

_I will not hunt her._

Bellatrix, though, had no intention of pretending to run. She prowled back, on hands and knees, and turned to present herself that way. His breath caught.

"Lick me. I want you to taste me." 

Her scent was dizzying, and he wanted nothing more himself -- except possibly to kill her and escape. He wondered if it was better to play along for a little while. She would be alert for defiance, now. Slowly, he stretched forward, until her musk was pulling him closer. He could just see the engorged folds between her thighs, and he pushed gently with his face, urging her legs further apart, until he could at last stretch his tongue down between them. She tasted salty and good, and even without the curse, his moan of pleasure would have been wordless.

"That's it." She went down on her elbows, giving him a better angle. "That's what you want. Want to lick all over and taste your new treat. Want to make sure you would know me in the dark." She rocked back against him. "But wouldn't you like more? You could mount me. You could slide your hard shaft in there. You could fuck me hard -- I don't mind hard...."

With a rough whine, Remus pulled back and scrambled on top of her. _God, yes! In and fuck, and --_ He thrust into her furiously, only slightly distracted by his own rough growling. She was wet and hot and bucking beneath him, she was beautiful, she -- _She got Padfoot to betray us!_ With a savage snarl he threw himself forward, intent on breaking her neck. 

The collar yanked him back. He found himself suspended nearly upright, choking from the compression of his windpipe.

"Now beast," Bellatrix chided. "Play nice." She looked back over her shoulder at him. "You're upset, I know. It's what you were taught -- that we need to make allowances for Muggle filth. I'll teach you better." Her eyes shone. "I'll teach you hunting."

Remus started forward, only to be pulled back again. He froze. 

"Stay still. There. Bad werewolf. You haven't brought me off, yet. I can't keep a beast that won't please his mistress."

She crawled back, placing her cunt back up against him. To his disgust, he was still hard. He kept himself from pushing forward, but she pushed back. He whined.

"Your body knows, doesn't it? You think you hate me, but that's just what _they_ constructed over you. The beast knows better." She lowered her head and began to thrust rhythmically back on his desperate cock. He couldn't move back. It was all he could do to hold still. After a minute, the collar eased, letting him lean forward, hands on her hips, and he realized he was thrusting now, though he didn't know when he had started, and he should stop, but she was good, so good....

He howled with his release, and she cried out beneath him. The hard clench of muscle kept him going, riding, certainly the most intense orgasm of his life, and for a split second he loved --

_No._

It was very good sex, but he didn't love her. He didn't even like her. And he wanted the damned collar off!

Bellatrix laughed, and Remus realized he was growling, a low threatening sound that felt pleasantly powerful where it welled up from his chest.

"Finite Incantantum."

"You fuck go leave bitch sex --" Remus caught his voice and stopped. He took a deep breath. "Take this collar off of me and go."

She sighed. "Werewolf, really. Don't you see I'm better for you than all those Muggle-loving fools? With me -- with us -- you can have it all."

"I don't want it all. I want my freedom." 

"You'll never be free. Not under the Ministry. Not under Crouch. They fear you too much."

"Go away." 

"Poor beast." Her hand reached out to caress his face; the collar kept him from biting her. "You'll understand, soon. I will find our Lord -- find him! -- and he will set you free." She flicked her wand and the silver-cored binding returned, pulling him close to the bed. "For now, wait. I will return for your training." She smiled coldly. "You will welcome me. _Sine Lingua!"_

She was gone. Remus whined. 

  


A short time later, he heard a soft pop of Apparation in the next room, then another, then another. Remus froze. He hadn't expected Bellatrix to return so soon, nor to want to share her catch. In an instant, he made up his mind. Bracing himself, he let out the loudest sound he could. It emerged as an eerie howl.

"What the hell was _that?"_

Remus didn't recognize that voice, but the next gruff one was familiar. "Wands ready. With me, boys."

Three figures burst through his doorway and arrayed themselves in a semicircle, facing outwards, wands raised. They were not wearing masks. They were wearing Aurors' robes. Remus forced down his embarrassment and whined desperately.

"It's --" One of the Aurors stepped forward. 

"Careful. Check the corners." 

Moody, as he'd thought from the voice. Remus rolled his eyes and relaxed back. He was saved.

Of course, with Moody, it wasn't that easy. He questioned Remus about insignificant conversations from a month ago, to which he could reply only with vaguely canine noises. One of the junior Aurors caught on quickly and negated the curse.

"Thank you." Remus swallowed. "Bellatrix. She --"

"Bellatrix Lestrange? She was here?"

"Yes. She wanted me to join them." Remus locked his eyes on Moody's. "She put the collar on me so I couldn't hurt her, and the hex so I couldn't talk. Thought it suited me. Take the collar off, please. I couldn't ... It would yank me back." Remus heard his voice becoming increasingly hysterical.

"Steady," Moody growled. He spent a while firing spells at the collar and at Remus, but finally he reached around and unclasped it. Remus gulped at the air as it fell away.

"Thank you."

"Did you promise her anything?"

"Nothing, I swear. She only asked once. Said she'd be back to train me...." Remus wanted to curl up and cry, but he was still bound, splay-limbed, to the bed. That changed with a few flicks of Moody's wand and Remus rolled to the side and pulled his knees up to his chest.

"There, lad. You'll be all right." Moody stood. "When did she leave?"

"Five or ten minutes ... before you arrived. I think." 

"We should move on." Moody stepped away from the bed. "Garrick, come with me. Murdoch, stay here till Lupin, here --" He gestured at Remus "-- can defend himself."

Moody and one of the Aurors vanished. Remus peered over his knees at the remaining man, who looked distinctly embarrassed. Remus nearly asked for a blanket before realizing he was no longer bound. He reached down and covered himself, grateful for both the visual protection and the warmth. The Auror seemed reassured. Remus let his body uncurl slightly.

"What were you looking for?" he asked. 

"Bellatrix. The thought was she might come to her cousin's house."

Remus started to nod, then stopped himself. _This never happened._ "Reasonable," he said neutrally. "Why her?"

"She and her friends --" The Auror looked away. "-- they caught the Longbottoms."

Remus's heart froze. _Frank and Alice? And Neville, born the same day as Harry?_ "Are they ... well...?"

"Might as well be. Tortured." The Auror didn't seem able to say more on it. He cleared his throat uncomfortably as he raised the collar, which Moody had left on the table. "I'm afraid we'll have to take, er, this."

"Please!" Remus caught his breath, which seemed to have gone suddenly ragged. "It's _hers._ I'd never seen it before tonight. It kept me ... it's cursed."

The Auror shook his head. "Shouldn't have gone staying in Sirius Black's place."

"I know, but...." Remus couldn't explain, and he knew it. "I ... I had lived here. We were friends ... I thought we were, anyway. I haven't had the energy to move."

The Auror seemed a friendly enough bloke. Remus wasn't sure he'd stay that way when he looked up Remus's registration and realized what he was. The man nodded sympathetically, took magical readings on the bedposts, and packed the collar in cheap regulation silk. When Remus could stand, he tottered to the shower; when he got out, the Auror was gone. The flat was empty.

 

Remus packed. The fast, orderly activity protected him from his emotions. When it was all done, he sat on the edge of the bed. The room still smelled of Bellatrix -- of sex. He remembered the glowing, vibrant look to her when she arrived. She'd arrived from torturing the Longbottoms. That was how she looked after _torturing_ someone.

He cast a lightening spell on his trunks, hoisted them in front of him, and started for the door.


End file.
